Korsha eyed the thread as it snaked its way into the spire. Korsha's heart sped up. The towering black building before her was a manifestation of the governor's spirit. Acting as a sort of anchor within Keshkigal. As she and Enaru entered the clearing, she noted how the swamp had reversed to course black sand. A tower built upon sand. Korsha scoffed as she approached the doors.

The doors were made of a tarnished bronze that clashed with the tower's black and gold aesthetic. Dulled spikes jutted out in rows near the top and bottom, while in the center was the Imperial Emblem, though the six wings were jagged and appeared broken instead of raised up in triumph.

She rapped her knuckles upon the door and listened to its dull hollow ring. They were thick. Durable. She placed her hand against the cool metal and closed her eyes. She focused on the words the governor had spoken to her shortly before the power outage.

"Help me."

Such a simple phrase, yet within those two words was a permission and now its power was pouring into her as though she were merely a receptacle. Channeling that powerz she focused it into the palm of her hand. At first the doors resisted her. Something has reinforced them. Yet that opposing influence bled away as the doors became translucent, allowing Enaru and herself to pass through.

Korsha's brow furrowed as she examined the hollow interior. There was no furniture. No decorations. It was empty, devoid of personality or embellishments, save for the vast sum of books that lined the walls like a kaleidoscope of knowledge. Their thick spines packed neatly together yet held up by nothing as though placed upon invisible shelves. On the back wall was a large staircase. Her eyes followed its coiling as it arched up to the very peak of the tower.

Korsha strode across the room, heading straight for the staircase. There was a sudden burst of energy. The air before her became thick as though hovering crystals of ice were forming. Korsha stepped back, crouched and snapped her hand up, ready to defend herself.

Her eyes locked on the opaque ghostly form of governor Illanor as she passed. Her pace was hurried, tense, each step slapping against the ground. Yet Korsha could tell the woman was holding back. A strange mix of professionalism that kept her from breaking out into a sprint.

It was an imprint.

Imprints in the natural world were made through intense expression that imprinted itself upon the veil, but here they were the remnants of memories. As Korsha and Enaru walked deeper, more imprints manifested. One imprint stood with her hand to her ear as she used her omnivice in private mode. Her brow drooped as she spoke in hushed whispers into the phone. Korsha could just make out the apology for not being able to make it home that night.

A door appeared off to the side as another imprint walked through. Her face was haggard and framed by wild frizzy hair. The woman shambles past an enthusiastic child who bounced up and down, arms outstretched ready to be picked up. Instead all the child got was a quick ruffling of the hair as the governor ambled by. Reading a chair, she dropped down, slumping as though she were deflating. The child wandered over, climbed up onto her lap and laid there with her.

"She's lost herself. Poor soul." Enaru said, swaying his head back and forth as the examined the imprints.

Korsha narrowed her eyes. She understood the necessity of sacrifice. So, she's a workaholic and she's educated. No wonder my master wants her on his side. She's useful.

They reached the staircase and made their way up the tower. Below a dozen memories played out each one the same as those who came before. A distant part of Korsha wondered how anyone could be so busy they didn't spend time with their family? People didn't know what they had until it was gone. It was a clichéd proverb but its bitter truth was something she tasted far too many times.

She'd have killed to have a family, someone to come home to. A place to rest her heart…

Korsha blinked the heavy emotions that such thoughts churned up within her. That was her loneliness talking. She knew the alternative truth to families. They were like chains. Keeping one bound and centered, forcing their focus. Families tied one down. They got in the way of the mission.

Needless of her conflicting thoughts, she considered implanting something within the governor's fragment. A desire to connect with her family. Would that distracting from her work to the point that it would be detrimental to her master's plans? Theoretically it should make her happier and thus more productive. Wasn't that how it works?

She couldn't know and thus she refused to act. As usual, she replied solely upon her masters guidance. Doing only as she was instructed. Of course his daemon is never around when I need it. The pesky spirit always had a habit of showing up at the most inopportune times. Stalking her, watching her every move, as though she were something that couldn't be trusted. Someday I'm going to give you a new purpose. Such a thought made her grin with excitement.

Ascending the stairs, Korsha paused at a window and gazed outside. Once more the landscape had shifted, though she noted that the black sands surrounding the spire remained. The swamp had been banished, replaced by a twilight abyss. The sky was black and starless. She only guessed it was twilight due to the low amount of light that illuminated the world beyond in dull lifeless colors. Movement caught her attention and she eyed the roaming tree-life spiders who ambled around the clearing. She noted how they never entered into the black sands.

It was a curious thing, was it the spire that had moved across Keshkigal or did the underworlds simply toss the spire from location to location. With the strangeness of this realm, it was possible that it was simultaneously both and neither. Just thinking about it made her head hurt. She grunted her musings off, leaving such things to her intellectual betters.

About a quarter of the way up the stairs, Korsha found her irritation rising. She and Enaru were being forced to walk the stairs as she couldn’t just fly up. This spire, this world, was a microcosm and its laws were bound to the governor’s understanding of reality. At this point, Korsha had been in several minds who had lost their grip on reality and those anchors were insanity made incarnate. Unlike the shifting world of the underworld, their realm was a colliding mess of contradictions. Floors became gaping holes, ceilings fell and walls warped and wrapped around one like a snake. That was just to mention the physical and not the physics.

The governor's own spiritual world was well structured to the point of being boring. It was only the books that lined the walls, even up the staircase, that held any interest. Peering at some of the covers she saw a myriad of different topics ranging from statecraft to stellar mathematics to psychology. She noted that some of these book's spines had a shimmering quality to them and she realized that these were downloaded packets of information. They were knowledge but they were not her knowledge, her insights. It was something that was done amongst the higher bureaucrats as they had far more chaos to manage.

Korsha blinked as her boots slapped against the stone stair steps. How long had they been running? In this place her body didn't ache nor grow weary but if this had been the real world she would've been exhausted by now. Training or otherwise. Around and around and around they went. Each step forward felt like another backwards. Progress was made and lost in a single breath as they curled upwards into infinity. She knew they had to have been walking for at least half an hour by now.

A realization struck Korsha and she stopped. This is what it’s like for her. A never ending spiral. A chase without an end.

“A hunt without satisfaction.” Enaru said.

Korsha turned to the jaguar, her brow furrowing. He stared back, nonplussed about their current situation.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

“It’s an illusion.”

“Most things are.”

Now that she knew what she was dealing with, she could recognize the illusion that now encompassed her. Concentrating, she fought back as she honed her focus into a sharp point. There was a shattering sound, like fine pottery breaking under stress. Korsha blinked. When she opened her eyes they were at the top of the stairs. Enaru grunted and Korsha turned to see he was giving her another look. She particularly didn't like the way his brow jutted upwards.

"Shut it."

They stepped off the stairs and onto the platform that seemed to just hover in the air. A beam of light poured in, pooling on the floor before a solitary door. Korsha eyed the twirling motes of light that danced around her. The door itself was a black thing trimmed with golden reliefs of mythological creatures and divine messengers. It was a thing of beauty but wrapped in chains. Korsha felt Enaru staring at her. She waved him off. They were so close. She stepped forward and examined the chains. There were dozens of them. Each intersection of the chain was sealed with a lock and each chain and lock were different sizes, different materials in different colors. There was an organization to it, though it was haphazard at best.

"Now what?" Enaru asked, falling back onto his haunches.

Korsha stiffened as she realized this was a test. Her guide knew the answer and wondered if she could piece it together. Did she have enough insight to figure it out? She examined the chains and tried to note the different materials. Titanium. Copper. Bronze. Platinum. Even diamond? So it wasn't about strength because diamond was a poor substitute for chain all she would have to do was strike it hard enough. Though she doubted if she performed such an action that she would get that result. It's not about material, she thought to herself as she eyed the locks.

Each one was a different style, though she noted the more modern locks, the digital ones, were inaccurate representations as though made by a child who understood the form but not the function. She grabbed one and pulled but it stayed fastened. She chewed on the inside of her lip as she stepped back. She was missing something and by the way Enaru purred it was obvious.

She groaned as the realization hit her. The locks. It was the locks. Just like the staircase they weren't real. This was Keshkigal, the underworld, locks and chains were forged creations. Things made by mortals and gods. If these had been made by the governor to keep people out then the modern ones would have been accurate. This was a deterrent meant to keep the uninitiated out.

Korsha grinned. She'd seen this type of thing before now that she knew what she was looking at. Whatever spirit had stolen the piece of the governor's spirit was trying to cover its tracks, keep others from entering and attempting to steal its prize. Unfortunately for you, you have something my master wants.

"Good. Your power is returning."

“Returning? Don't you mean growing?”

Enaru grunted, “Whichever you prefer. In the end, it's all the same.”

She shook her head, the spirits were confusing and confused. They had no sense of time. From what she understood of the grand unifying theories, spirits lived in the state of eternal present. What that meant, Korsha had no idea. She'd heard terms such as pure present, as opposed to imprints which were pure past but none of it made sense to her and so long as it didn't keep her from doing her job, she didn't care.

Korsha knew how to break the locks but she wanted to make a statement. Stepping forward she lifted her hands and concentrated. She formed the intention and drew upon her connection. The stone circlet on her head grew warm as it dug into her skin. In the real world it had created a tiny precise cut on the center of her forehead so as to extract a drop of blood. Payment to manifest her desire. Her body rippled, her skin being consumed by her chalice armor. This was what set the Imperial binders apart from all the other imitators. Through the goddesses authority she was able to bring their technology into the spirit world.

Enaru glared at her. He didn't like the technology. He'd argued many times that it was holding her back but after displaying her abilities with the armor, he always remained silent. He was a spirit and only understood spirit things. She was something more, her existence was layered and complex in a way his never could be. She understood things in a way he could not comprehend. Stepping forward she drew on the power within her. Four more arms withdrew from her back. They splayed themselves out behind her. She relaxed their grip and the echo clang of chains reverberated through the room as the open metallic maws of her shacklers dangled in the air, ready to be used.

With her free hands she stepped forward and made the sign of the Imperial goddess. Power slammed into her as though she had been struck by lightning. It surged through her, bathing every fiber of her being in its holy fury. She struggled to focus it, the power threatening to bring her to her knees and if she’d held it a second longer it would have but instead she released it. The holy energy arced through the air, smashing into the door. Flames of purple radiance gnawed at the chains, slowly dissolving them into dripping puddles of pale liquid.. She turned to Enaru and grinned.

"You ready?"

"Let us restore this woman."

Korsha dropped her shoulder and slammed into the door causing the metal to crumple in and explode into thousands of shimmering shards like glass. She arrested her momentum and gazed out into the long hall she was now standing in. Massive columns lined the sides. A long red carpet let up to a dais where a cage was set. She could see the governor inside, though her hair was wild, matching her darting frantic eyes. The woman’s body shivered as her arms clutched something to her breast.

Korsha narrowed her eyes as she saw the gangly monstrosity clinging to the bars with arms and legs. Its limbs were unnaturally thin and elongated, seeming to extend from its grotesque torso like a spider’s limbs. The thing had an almost ape-like appearance, though its features had been stretched to the grotesque, as if whatever god had fashioned it had run out of flesh. Its malformed torso was even more horrific; so skeletally thin, it seemed nothing but an elongated spine connected to protruding limbs.

The woman screamed, pleading for it to stop but its relentless jabbering and mocking were endless. The creature was so obsessed with the governor that it never saw Korsha and Enaru approaching. Korsha grinned at the delicious irony of it. She stopped when they were a dozen paces away.

Korsha understood what had happened now. It was a simple trick. One that even worked in the real world. She'd heard stories of hunters who left out jars with shiny objects in them. Then the hunters would sit and wait until their prey arrived. The intelligence of the animal would allow them the understanding to reach in and grasp the object. That's when the hunter would simply get up and walk over to the creature. The animal's desire would overwhelm them and keep them from letting go of the object.

Trapping them.

It was the same thing here. The governor had been trapped in her desire.

"In the name of the Imperial Goddess," Korsha said, her voice booming and echoing through the chamber, "I demand you release her."

As she spoke the chain circlet upon her head flexed. Korsha remained stoic as she knew the barbs of the chain circlet were preparing themselves. She flexed her fingers, preparing them to form the sign as the spirit's head twisted around, its neck popping and cracking as it did so. It repositioned itself between Korsha and the governor. Its body still clung to the cage, its back facing Korsha but now its head and glaring eyes facing her.

Its head cocked to the side with a wet snapping sound as it examined her. It scowled and jumped to the ground, its body twisting in air as its head cracked back into place. The spirit rose. She could now see the desiccated chest cavity as he towered over her. Its lips curled back, exposing yellowed fangs set in blackened gums.

"This is my domain!" It said, hammering the ground with its fists, "We make exchange."

Korsha’s head dropped, a smile creeping upon her lips. It was a dark malicious thing that curved up like daggers. She was going to enjoy this. When she spoke it was in a low, even voice, an imitation of her master’s own commanding voice.

"In exchange, I'll give you your life, your freedom and I'll spare you an eternity of the servitude you so deserve."

The spirit's eyes bulged. It jumped up and down, gnashing its teeth before throwing its head back and howling. The sound shook Korsha to the bones and seemed to make the columns rumble. The spirit hadn't been exaggerating, this was its domain. She remained steadfast as she took in the savage outburst as one would a toddlers tantrum. Those poison green eyes fixed themselves upon her again. It snarled.

"Usurper! You dishonor the ancient traditions."

Calling upon the power of the goddess through the chain circlet, she set her face like stone as the barbs pierced into her scalp. The pain was like an echo that reverberated through her. The chain circlet fixed upon her real body was eagerly lapping up the trickle of blood it had exacted as its toll. The radiant power formed in her hand and she clasped it. The debt was paid. The goddess was satisfied with the offering.

With her part of the transaction satisfied, she lifted her hand back. When she brought it back down her lasher whipped out and struck the ground with a sharp snapping hiss. Here in Keshkigal it was a cracking whip of sizzling light. It struck the floor with a sharp snapping hiss. Her armor’s four arms clenched down upon the shackler’s chains. She lifted her one free hand up, palm facing the ceiling and watched as the receptacle appeared, dropping into her hand. The spirit took a step back. Fear contorting its face before anger could once more reassert itself. It slammed its arms against the floor and roared.

"Last chance." Korsha offered.

The spirit rushed her.